


Personal Space

by Persiflage



Series: Cousy Fest 2k17 [7]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cousy Fest 2k17, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Porn with Feelings, Secret Relationship, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:30:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Hunter complains about Phil and Daisy's attitude to personal space - but he doesn't know the half of it!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Cousy Fest 2k17 Day 5 prompt 'Personal space'.

"Do you two even know the meaning of 'personal space'?" Hunter demands.

Daisy and Coulson look up from the desk where the two of them are peering at Daisy's tablet, their identical expressions of confusion making Hunter roll his eyes.

"Hunter," Coulson says, in that very annoying tone of long-suffering he often seems to adopt. "What are you talking about?"

"You two." He gestures at them – their arms and shoulders are touching, and he guesses their legs must be, too, under the desk, though he's not gonna look to check, thank you very much.

Coulson frowns. "Do you actually want something, or are you just here to be annoying as usual?"

Hunter huffs in annoyance. "It's about Bobbi – " he begins, then stops when Coulson's frown deepens while Daisy groans quietly. "What?" 

"Don't you think it's about time you and Bobbi started acting like adults, instead of squabbling teens?" Daisy asks.

 _That's a bit unkind_ , he thinks, annoyed. (Of course, while it's unkind, it's not actually untrue.) "Oh forget it," he says grumpily, and stalks out.

"What was that all about?" Daisy asks Coulson as the Brit disappears.

Coulson shakes his head. "I have no idea." He looks from the door, back to her, and smirks. "He wasn't wrong about one thing, though."

"What?"

"We've never had much concept of personal space, have we?"

Daisy chuckles, and squeezes his thigh under the desk: her fingers are dangerously close to his crotch, she knows, and she's unsurprised when he shifts so that his legs are spread a bit wider. That means he's getting hard, so she slides her hand higher, and hears a hitch in his breathing. She turns her head and gives him her most seductive smile, but before she can lean in and kiss him, there's a knock on Coulson's door frame, and she looks up to see Trip standing there.

"Hey Trip," she says brightly, and slides her hand the final inch so that her fingers are resting against Coulson's erection. He grabs her wrist under his desk, but she notices that he doesn't pull it away. Instead, he answers Trip's questions about the upcoming op that she and Coulson are planning while Daisy curls her fingers over the hard flesh that's trapped beneath the fabric of his suit pants. She can feel her own arousal building, and as Coulson and Trip talk, she slips her free hand under the desk and begins to rhythmically press the crotch of her own pants against her sex. 

As soon as Trip's gone, Coulson turns to her and kisses her, all teeth and tongue, and she moans into his mouth as she fumbles his pants undone. 

"The door," he says breathlessly. "We need to lock the door."

She groans, then lets him pull away, his rampant erection poking imperiously from his unfastened pants as he goes to close and lock the door. Then he invokes the lockdown protocol, before moving back to the desk.

"Are you gonna fuck me on your desk, Coulson?" she asks hopefully.

He smirks. "If you like." He cocks his head, then nods at the couch. "Or we could do it on the couch."

"Desk," she tells him firmly, and he smirk becomes a full-blown grin. She gets to her feet and they quickly clear things off the top of the desk, then he kisses her hungrily as he unfastens her jeans and pulls them and her panties down. She plants her hands firmly on the desk, and he steps behind her, and when she glances back over her shoulder, he's dropped his own pants. He pulls open the desk drawer and removes a pack of condoms, then rolls one down his swollen shaft before he pushes her legs apart a little. He pushes his fingers between her thighs, testing her readiness for penetration, and she moans at the sensation of his thick, calloused fingers stroking her slick arousal, then he clasps her left hip with his left hand before guiding his cock to push inside her.

She wonders what Hunter would say if he knew that she and Coulson were fucking: it would prove his argument about them having no concept of personal space, she supposes.


End file.
